“We weren’t expecting you today.”
She stood aside to allow the grizzled Scotsman to enter the room, grinning as he sniffed the warm bread-scented atmosphere appreciatively.
“I had to go out to one of the rigs, and I got them to drop me off here instead of Lerwick.”
“Magnus will be pleased to see you.” Catriona picked up one of the tins and expertly knocked on the bottom to remove the loaf, cutting a generous crust and spreading it with butter.
“It will give you indigestion,” she warned as Mac took it from her, busying herself with the old-fashioned kettle she had got into the habit of using on the range rather than rely on the eccentric habits of their generator.
“Worth it, though. Something wrong?” he queried when Catriona gave him a rather preoccupied smile. “Magnus isn’t worse, is he?”
“He’s gone out for a walk.” Catriona worried about these solitary walks of her brother’s, with only his dog for company. “Mac, we had a letter this morning. They want to build a back-up terminal on Falla.”
“And you’re against the idea?”
She nodded.
“What does Magnus say?”
She told him, adding that she was surprised that he hadn’t vetoed it from the very start, but mentioning how he had changed when she had suggested that he might do the survey.
“Umm. It could be a good sign. It proves that he hasn’t withdrawn totally from the outside world. As a matter of fact, having men here from his old life might be the best thing that could happen to him. Seeing them might help him get over the mental block he’s created inside himself and drive him out of himself.”
“And if it doesn’t? If it makes him withdraw even further? Oh, Mac, I’m so frightened for him! I’m sure he’s only considering this terminal because he thinks it will be best for the rest of us. If you could have seen him this afternoon when he was talking about the accident….”
“But don’t you see?” Mac demanded, suddenly excited. “He did talk about it. Who knows, this desire to allow them on to Falla might be a deeply hidden longing to return to his old life.”
“Then you think I should agree?”
He got up and came over to her, his eyes kind and understanding. “Not just agree, Cat, but actively encourage him. Can you do that?”
She had to turn away so that he wouldn’t see the despair in her eyes.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “You know how I feel about the industry.”
“Aye, you’re a bonny hater,” Mac agreed with a smile which robbed the words of criticism. “But Magnus is right, you owe it to your people to at least let them make explorations.”
Catriona knew when she was defeated. Much as she hated the idea it looked as though she was going to have to give in, but that didn’t mean that she had stopped fighting. One sign that Falla was going to be despoiled, one hint that these intruders were adversely affecting Magnus and they would be gone.
“You can’t go on living like this, Cat,” Mac added gently. “It wasn’t what your parents would have wanted for you. How long is it since you last went out to a dance, or enjoyed yourself at all, come to that?” He tweaked her long braid, and although Catriona had been about to protest that she didn’t mind, that she didn’t miss the fun and glamour of London, she was suddenly conscious of the picture she must present in her heavy sweater and shabby jeans, and grimaced slightly.
Having persuaded Mac to stay and eat with them, and assured him that Findlay would take him back to Lerwick, she collected cutlery from a drawer and started to place it on the table. She and Magnus always ate in the kitchen; for one thing it was always warm, and that had become an important consideration in their lives.
The meal she had planned was only simple: omelettes made from the eggs she had gathered that afternoon, homemade bread, and some scones she had just placed in the oven. Magnus walked in as she was beating the eggs. His walk had brought the colour to a face which had grown unnaturally pale, and Catriona was pleased to see that he greeted their visitor with enthusiasm. As she had hoped he would, Mac introduced the subject of the proposed oil terminal, and as Catriona moved deftly about the old-fashioned kitchen the two men discussed the possible outcome if the geologists’ report was favourable.
Both men praised her cooking, but Catriona couldn’t help noticing that Magnus merely toyed with his food, pushing the omelette around his plate. Mac, who had been a widower for very many years, cleaned his plate appreciatively.
“Are you going to give the go-ahead, then?” he asked Magnus as Catriona poured their tea.
“I don’t see that we have much option, and at least at this stage they’re only investigating.”
“Well, if you write the letter, I’ll post it for you in Lerwick,” Mac offered, ignoring Catriona’s faint frown. “No point in letting the grass grow under your feet if you’ve made up your minds, is there now?” he commented when Magnus hesitated.
“You think they’d leave it over until spring now,” Catriona commented. “The daylight is so short at this time of the year, always supposing the weather is good enough to allow them to get here each day.”
Mac frowned.
“But surely they’ll be staying here on Falla?”
Catriona splashed hot tea on the table and mopped it up with hands that shook. This was something she had never thought of, but she as from Magnus’s face that he had.
“Come on Catriona,” Mac coaxed. “You can’t honestly expect them to travel here each day? Where’s your common sense?”
“They’ll have to won’t they?” she said curtly. “Unless some of the islanders put them up.”
She cleared away their plates while the men drank their tea, and then offered to drive Mac down to the harbour when he insisted that he ought to leave. Magnus was listening to the radio and shook his head when Catriona invited him to go with them.
“He’s like a hermit,” she complained as Mac helped her into the Land Rover. “I tried to persuade him to go to Lerwick with me, but he wouldn’t.”
But he had written a letter agreeing to allow the geologists to examine the voe, and it was now in Mac’s shabby raincoat pocket. There were no lights to guide her along the narrow unmade road, but Catriona did not need them.
“Well, if Mohammed won’t go to the mountain, have you thought about bringing the mountain to him?” Mac questioned, making her eye him queryingly. “You said Magnus was like a hermit,” he explained patiently. “And it isn’t good for him to shut himself away like this, Cat. He’s a healthy male of twenty-nine and he needs other human company. If he won’t seek out that company then you’ll have to bring it to him.”
“By doing what?” Catriona asked sarcastically. “Capturing it wholesale?”
“No need to go to such extremes,” Mac chuckled, ignoring her angry stare. “Not when you’ve got a ready-made solution right on your doorstep. Think, Cat,”
